


Blood is Not Fleeting

by tryslora



Series: All Our Yesterdays [28]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Children, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Family Secrets, Jackson is off screen, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1948416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life seems pretty ephemeral sometimes, but Stiles tries to keep things stable for his daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood is Not Fleeting

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for prompt #76 - Ephemeral over at fullmoon_ficlet. At first I wasn't sure how the prompt would fit into the series, then I thought about Nikki and it totally hit me. As always, I don't own the world or characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

“You seem to be feeling better.” Nikki leans against the door frame of his study, her arms crossed as she watches Stiles putter around the study.

And he does, it’s true. He can walk without the cane most of the time now, and he no longer feels about eighty years old when he wakes up in the morning. He took his own shower, and now it’s Jackson’s turn and he doesn’t need help either, so yeah. There have been improvements after a couple more weeks of rest. He nods slowly, not sure where she’s going with this, because he can see that light in her eyes that says his teenage daughter’s words were only an opening salvo. “Much. Kids down for a nap?”

She nods, and takes a step further into the room. She picks up a pair of Jackson’s boxers with her fingertips, making a face, and drops them into the laundry basket with the other things Stiles has been gathering. “Ew. You two are pigs.” Nikki turns slowly, her head cocked, and when she looks back at Stiles, one lip is caught between her teeth. “Are we keeping them?”

“For now.” He’s comfortable with this line of questioning; it’s easier to talk about the two small cubs they’re taking care of than anything else in his life right now. “It’s possible that their pack will want them back, but in the interest of protecting them, we’re keeping them and petitioning to make it permanent. Does that bother you?”

A quick shake of her head. “No, not at all. I don’t mind helping, and Papa’s so good with kids.”

He sees the moment that things click over in his eyes and he knows they’re on track now for the conversation that she wants to have.

“If Papa’s sticking around, that is.” She says it like she can’t decide if it’s a question or not.

“I’m not kicking him out.” Stiles speaks slowly, treading through the mine field of this particular topic of conversation. “It doesn’t mean we’re back together, Nik. I’m going to make some phone calls today to get rid of this hospital bed because I’d like my study back. And we’ll be moving Jackson’s things into the guest room.”

“Why? You two have spent every night in that bed together since he got hurt. Besides, we need a place for Stephen and Haley.” Her words are blunt and pointed, and he can hear her mother in her tone.

“We slept in the same bed because Jackson needed an anchor.” Stiles ignores the fact that they don’t really have the room for everyone to have their own space. It would be easier for him to share with Jackson, but instead he plans to take at least one of the small children into his room as a nursery.

She smiles brightly as if she’s caught him out. “And you’re still it for him. Dad, that _means_ something. I know you’re not this much of an idiot, so honestly, can’t you two just—”

“This isn’t your business, Nikki.” His tone is sharp, biting out her name. Stiles doesn’t want to get into this conversation with his daughter, doesn’t want his _teenager_ pointing out that her fathers are perfectly comfortable sleeping in the same bed, but can’t seem to get past that to cohabit in any other way.

Her smile turns overly sweet and just as sharp as his words. “Fine. Then let’s talk about something else. Like oh… now that I’ve met my mother and _that_ topic is open for discussion, who, exactly, is my biological father?”

Stiles stops what he’s doing, dirty laundry held in his hands, because _this_ is where she was going all along. He’s sure of it. She just wanted to get him riled up, make him want to talk about _anything_ other than his fractured relationship with his ex-husband, and then she starts to dig.

She’s got her mother’s brains and she’s learned how to be devious from him. It’s a really terrifying combination sometimes.

Stiles drops the laundry on top of the rest of the pile, then picks up the basket, heading towards the laundry room. “I don’t know,” he admits. “That’s one thing that you can’t put on my head or Jackson’s—Lydia never told any of us. She refused.”

Her brow furrows as she slides in beside him, stealing the basket away so that he can walk more easily. “Why? I mean, so she got pregnant and she wasn’t married. It’s not like any of you cared, right?”

“Well, we cared about _her_.” Which is definitely the truth. He remembers when Lydia sat the entire pack down and explained to them all at once that she was pregnant, and gave them the specifics of due date, current stage, cravings… everything but the father’s name. “We asked who it was, and she said it didn’t matter. She told me once that if everything went as planned, it would never matter.”

Nikki’s nose wrinkles. “What, did she genetically engineer me in a test tube?”

“You were conceived while she was doing graduate work in math at MIT,” Stiles tells her. “So while it’s possible your mother could’ve cooked up something like that, it isn’t probable. I’m pretty sure there’s an actual father involved somewhere and you aren’t just a clone.” He looks at her carefully, sees the echo of Lydia in the shape of her face and the curls and color of her hair. “ _Mostly_ pretty sure.”

“Cloning’s impossible.” Nikki snorts softly. “TV shows and sensational magazines aside. I’ve looked into it, and I thought about using it for a senior project, but it’s just not able to be done yet, not with any stability. Yes, they’ve had success once or twice, but the technology really isn’t viable for mammals. Not if you want them to live more than a year or two, or be anything but a mule.”

Stiles smiles softly. “You sound so much like her sometimes.” He gestures at the washing machine and she sets the basket down. Stiles loads the laundry in, only separating it into light (into the machine) versus dark (tossed on the floor for later). He doesn’t care that it’s his stuff and Jackson’s mixed up at this point. If he’s going to live here, Stiles might as well just do fewer loads of laundry rather than trying to separate it all out.

“You’re only helping with the clone theory,” Nikki points out, tone dry. “I’m sure there’s something of my father in me, too.”

“Probably.” Stiles turns back to her once the machine is running. “You’re an evil little bastard like me.” He grins, and she grins back, knowing that’s a teasing compliment. “You’ve got your Papa’s confidence and taste. But I don’t know what you get from your biological father. I’m not lying and I’m not joking, Nik. I have no idea who it is.”

She’s in his arms before he realizes she’s moving, her arms wrapped around his center, head pillowed against his shoulder. “Sometimes it seems like everything keeps going away,” she says quietly. “I didn’t know anything about my mom, and now I know her, but she’s _dead_ , so she’s not exactly here but she’s here. And there’s you and Papa and I just keep thinking that I’m going to wake up to shouting and he’ll be gone again. And you’ve decided to keep Haley and Stephen, but what if their pack takes them back? Everything keeps… leaving.” She hiccups softly. “Except Caleb.”

Stiles smiles wryly. “Caleb is like his dad: Scott met Allison and he always knew she was the one, even if they had bumps along the way. I can’t really be surprised if Caleb is like that, too.”

“Was my mom? Like that?”

Stiles presses his lips together because the last thing he wants to talk about is Lydia’s sexual confidence when they were younger. “I thought so, a long time ago, back when she was dating your dad and I was in love with her from afar. I thought she and Jackson were meant to be and that it wouldn’t ever change.”

“But it did.”

“Well, he became a homicidal lizard and was dragged to London, and she dated another werewolf, then swore she wasn’t dating anyone else until she got her Fields Medal.” He strokes his fingers through Nikki’s hair. “We were shocked when she showed up pregnant, because we thought there wasn’t anyone in her life except us. And before you ask, I am absolutely positive that it’s not me or your Papa. And I’m pretty damned sure it’s not Isaac or Derek, either.”

Nikki blinks up at him, a teasing smile tilting her lips. “Cora?” she suggests.

Stiles laughs. “Nope, even in the crazy supernatural world, that will not actually work. There had to have been a human—or semi-human—male involved somewhere for half your genetics, kid.”

Nikki huffs a sigh and snuggles in closer, and they stand there for a time, the whir of the washing machine just noise in the background. She finally disengages with a small shove. “Do you think she’d tell me if I asked?”

“Probably not.” Stiles has to be honest. He’s tried many times over the years to convince Lydia to tell him, because if Nikki had a blood relative still alive, he wanted to be able to tell her that. “She has her reasons. I just have no idea what they are.”

“It doesn’t help the feeling of life just… disappearing. Like there’s nothing really to hold onto.”

Stiles fills in the _except Caleb_ in his own mind, and he hopes he’s on the list as something stable, too. He wraps his arms around her again, maneuvers her back out into the living room and tugs her down to the couch, sitting on his lap like she’s still six. She laughs and her arms go around him, curling in close.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says quietly. “And neither is Jackson. No, we’re not together, but we’re working on things and we’re trying to get along. I still love your Papa; that never changed. The problem is, love isn’t always enough. So it takes hard work to keep things going, but I’m willing to put that time in for you. And for Haley and Stephen, if that’s okay with you and if we keep them and foster them until they’re old enough to make their own decisions.”

He presses a kiss to her temple, gives her a moment if she wants to interrupt, but when she doesn’t, he keeps going.

“Life seems pretty ephemeral sometimes. When I was your age, it felt like people were dropping dead around me all the time, and I wanted for you to never experience that.” And he tried, and failed, to create that safe space, with her mother paying the cost. He still worries about what might come next for them, but that’s not a topic for now. “I’m trying to create a stable space for you here, and to make it _more_ stable, not less. That’s all I’ve— _we’ve_ —ever wanted for you. So you don’t need to worry. There are changes, yes, but it’s only going to get better, I promise. Nothing’s going to be subtracted.”

“And if I want to try to find out who my biological father is?”

It hurts, just a bit, that she needs to know it, but Stiles shoves that down. “Then we’ll find a way to match you up to everyone that Lydia ever talked to and see if any of them have matching DNA,” he says, and he’s only half joking. “You’ll always have a family, Nik.”

The doorbell rings, and Nikki sits up, brows furrowing in confusion. “Papa has a key,” she says.

“And Caleb comes in the window when the door’s locked,” Stiles says dryly. It’s not like he can argue, after the way his own room was an open space as a teenager.

“Caleb has a key,” Nikki assures him. “It’s easier. But who would be ringing the doorbell?”

Caleb has a key? Of course Caleb has a key. Stiles sighs.

It’s not a time he’s expecting company, and most of the pack would just know that the door’s unlocked most of the time and walk in anyway. Stiles spills Nikki carefully from his lap, aware that she’s following him when he gets to the door.

He’s not expecting the guy on the other side.

“Danny?”

The features are slightly more chiseled, the body just a shade softer, but the dimples are still exactly the same. “Hey,” Danny says with an easy smile. “Sorry to barge in unexpectedly, but I figured I’d surprise Jackson.”

“It’s been more than a decade,” Stiles points out. “I think it’s safe to say we’re all surprised.”

There isn’t anything to do but invite him in, and watch as Danny settles on the sofa. There’s a cry from upstairs and Nikki takes the excuse to dash off and check on the kids, leaving Stiles staring at an old friend and wondering just how much longer Jackson is going to be in the shower.

It’s been a dozen years, easily, since Danny left Beacon Hills for a job and didn’t look back. The fact that he shows up again right after the nemeton is freshly awakened isn’t lost on Stiles, and he has to wonder what it means.

After all, he told Nikki that life’s not really ephemeral and they’re not going anywhere. He didn’t mention the part where everything that leaves seems to come back eventually, and sometimes it’s hard to tell whether that’s a good thing or not.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


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